


Off-Season Gossip

by WhiskeyDreams



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack, Established Relationship, Everyone is afraid of Lilia, Figure Skating Off-Season, Georgi is a Drama Queen, Gossip Articles, Humor, I wrote this for shits and giggles, M/M, Minor Injuries, Otapliroy, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Rumors, Sexual Humor, Victor gives unsolicited sex advice, Yakov Feltsman Is So Done, but especially Yakov, mild bruises, speculations about abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:02:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23909095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskeyDreams/pseuds/WhiskeyDreams
Summary: “It might be Otabek's influence that is to blame if Yurachka is getting into fights,” Lilia mused.Yakov furrowed his brows. “Altin? We've been through this, Lilia. He's a good guy. If anything, he's probably the one bearing the brunt of the fights Yurachka starts.”“Then why isn't he the bruised one?” Lilia asked pointedly.“He... probably wins?”_ _ _Small bruises keep appearing on Yuri's face, and he refuses to explain them. Naturally, that only leads to wild speculations. Turns out that when it comes to rumors, rink-mates are worse than the tabloid press. On the other hand, what would the off-season be without some juicy gossip?
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin/Jean-Jacques Leroy/Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 22
Kudos: 139





	1. Rink-Mates Are Worse Than The Tabloid Press

**Author's Note:**

> Found this in my WIP folder the other day and since the world can probably use some lighthearted silliness more than ever right now, I tried my best to string the disconnected pieces I had already written together somehow. It turned into a 9k+ monster, so I decided to split it into two parts. Will post the second chapter once I've finished editing it! :)

“Did you see that Yurachka has a bruise on his face again? This is getting concerning,” Lilia remarked sternly, keeping her hard eyes trained on the lithe young man currently crouched in a sit spin on the ice in front of her, the small bruise on his right cheekbone invisible in the blur of black and white and blond as he rotated on his blade.

Yakov, more concerned with Yuri's foot change being wobbly, _again_ , only gave a non-committal grunt at Lilia's comment.

“He refuses to tell me where he got them from,” Lilia continued, clucking her tongue “I hope he hasn't been getting into fights.”

“And I hope he remembers how to center those spins properly. Preferably before the start of the season,” Yakov grumbled, before shouting over to Yuri: “Again, Yurachka!”

“Gimme a fucking break, old man!” Yuri hollered back, eyes flashing.

“Not before you learn to pay attention to your feet! AGAIN!”

It shouldn't have been possible, on a slippery surface with blades strapped to his feet, but Yuri somehow managed to _stomp_ across the ice to get back into position, cursing like a sailor.

Yakov watched him go for a new attempt, but all of his attention was suddenly captured by the way Lilia's nostrils were flaring, even though he didn't make the mistake to turn his head to look at her and could only see it out of the corner of his eyes. It was enough to make sweat break out on his neck. He shouldn't ask. He really shouldn't. After forty years, he ought to know better.

“What is it, Lilia?” he asked, groaning inwardly at his lack of reason.

“The mouth on that boy.”

“Probably what's to blame for him ending up with a bruised face.”

Lilia whipped around to give him a sharp look and he was quite proud of himself for not flinching.

“It appalls me to think that anybody would dare blemish his angelic face, regardless of the profanities that tend to come out of his mouth.”

Yakov had missed the moment of Yuri's foot change, but it was a minor concern while Lilia's nostrils were still flared. It was a topic they had discussed ad nauseam, and he was aware that she did not share his indifference about Yuri's ever growing arsenal of swear words that he used indiscriminately and at all times. It had nothing to do with his skating, therefore it hardly mattered, in Yakov's opinion. Unfortunately, Lilia wholeheartedly and nostril-flaringly disagreed.

“I can recall at least a dozen occasions – in this off season alone – where I have felt like my hand might slip. And yet, I remained in control of myself.”

Yakov couldn't be entirely sure that those occasions were only referring to Yuri, and was suddenly feeling rather warm under his hat.

“Not everybody has that kind of self-restraint, Lilia.”

“I know. It's shameful.”

Yakov gave another grunt, hoping against hope that Lilia would get tired of the topic if he refused to participate, and tried to focus his attention back on the ice.

“Go through the step sequence one more time, Yurachka!”

No profanities this time, Yuri just nodded and seemed finally ready to focus. Unlike Yakov, who was sweating bullets.

“I suspect that it might very well be Otabek's influence that is to blame if Yurachka is getting into fights,” Lilia mused, her sharp gaze searching, finding, and zoning in on the Kazakh skater on the other side of the rink.

Yakov furrowed his brows. “Altin? We've been through this, Lilia. He's a good guy. If anything, he's probably the one bearing the brunt of the fights Yurachka starts.”

“Then why isn't he the bruised one?” Lilia asked pointedly.

“He... probably wins?” Yakov offered, weakly.

“Winning a fight does not equate not getting injured,” Lilia pointed out. “I inspected their hands for abrasions of the knuckles but couldn't find any evidence that would support the theory that they are actually landing any punches.”

Yakov suppressed a groan. “Yurachka probably kicks them all with his knife-shoes. Look, Lilia, I'd like my skaters to be in one piece as well, regardless of aesthetics, and I'm sure they appreciate your concern-” He stopped abruptly when Lilia looked at him as if her hand felt like it might slip again all of a sudden.

“They certainly won't, once I inform them that I intend to keep a closer eye on them again.”

“Oh dear,” Yakov muttered, leaving it up for debate whether the comment was aimed at Lilia, or at the way Yuri aggressively butchered the step-sequence of his new free skate on the other side of the ice. He told himself that it was okay. The off-season was still long.

For some reason, the thought wasn't nearly as reassuring as he had hoped.

Due to Yuri's loud and relentless complaining, word about Lilia's newly re-instated “reign of terror”, as he called it, had quickly spread at the rink. Nobody really knew why she was being so hard on Yuri and Otabek all of a sudden, but general consensus was that it was better not to question Lilia's judgment. Rumors had it that it had something to do with the mysterious bruises on Yuri's face, but nobody seemed to know the origin of those, and all previous attempts at getting Yuri to admit where they came from had not gotten anybody anywhere – he either made up ridiculous stories that clearly weren't true, or he would dismiss the question entirely, stating that it had been an accident and that people should mind their own fucking business.

Naturally, that only added fuel to the rumor mill.

At the end of her training session, Mila idly glided over to where Georgi was taking a break at the boards, his water bottle half-raised to his lips as he watched the Russian Ice Tiger doing a few warm-up laps around the ice. Georgi's brows were furrowed and he seemed to have forgotten about the drink he was going to take. He jumped violently, almost dropping the bottle, when Mila stopped abruptly beside him, spraying him with ice and giggling about his startled expression.

“Our tiger cub looks even more grumpy than usual, huh?” she commented, nodding towards Yuri, who was currently glaring at Otabek for getting too close during their warm-up. Otabek looked grumpy as well, but that just might have been his resting bitch face – Mila found it hard to tell.

“I hope he and Yakov don't yell at each other the entire day again,” Georgi groused, “God, I hope I never get a student like him once I'm a coach.”

Mila raised an eyebrow. “You don't want a student who rakes in more gold medals in one season than you've won in your entire career?”

Georgi's lips thinned and he shot her an indignant look, putting down his water bottle with a little more force than necessary. “I don't think anger issues are a requirement for success, Mila.”

Mila shrugged. It was a fair point. Across the ice, Yuri sharply cut off Katsuki's path, not even sparing him a second glance as he was forced to swerve out of the way. She saw Katsuki mumble what was most likely an apology, even though he had done nothing wrong. She shook her head in exasperation, and was slightly amused to see Otabek doing the same in the distance, frowning at his boyfriend's behavior.

“Altin looks like he isn't in the best mood, either,” Georgi observed darkly.

“I think they're both cranky because Lilia has put them on a tight leash lately. I would be pissed off as well if I lived together with someone who had such a control-fetish. They're _adults_ , and they have a _curfew_! Like, can you even imagine?”

“I was under the impression that it was for their own good.”

“Yikes. That's such a lame blanket statement usually used to excuse abuse. Besides, I think it's backfiring.”

Mila expected Georgi to roll his eyes at her but instead, he dramatically batted his lashes and leaned in. “What if it isn't Lilia who is abusive?” he muttered in a low voice, his expression grave.

Mila blinked at him, carving her way through his theatrics to try and understand what the hell he was trying to say. It wasn't until Georgi pointedly glanced over at Otabek that Mila caught on to his meaning. She sucked in an outraged breath.

“Oh, come on, Georgi. That's ridiculous!”

Georgi straightened and gave her another dark look. “Is it? How well do we actually know him, Mila? It's not like he talks much.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Georgi was already skating away, clearly not interested in debating his dramatic interpretation of the origin of Yuri's bruises. Mila was certain that was all that this was – Georgi seeing drama where there was none, as per usual.

And Mila would have left it at that, had it not been for the small, nagging, irritating seeds of doubt that Georgi had sown with his assumptions.

After the edge class they took together in the afternoon, it seemed that Yuri's mood had improved enough for Mila to dare to make another attempt at getting the truth out of him.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? Like, no matter how private or-”

“Baba, I swear, if this is about those damn rumors about the size of Beka's dick again-”

“It isn't, but if you wanna comment on that, I'm all ears.”

“No, I don't! Besides, you've _seen_ him in those tight as hell free skate costume pants. Do the fucking math.”

“Wow. How do you even take tha-”

“FOR FUCK'S SAKE, BABA!”

“Sorry! I just- I'm just worried he's hurting you, Yurachka.”

“What the actual hell. He isn't, okay? Can we drop this now? It's none of your damn business.”

“If he's hurting you, it is.”

“I just told you he isn't!”

“Maybe not with his dick, but...” Her eyes darted to the bruise on his face, “What about that? Or the one from last week? Or the one before that?”

Yuri stared at her for a moment before he finally caught on to what she was talking about. He took a gasping breath and Mila ducked her head in anticipation of an explosion, but none came. Yuri just balled his hands to fists and hissed at her through his teeth. “You think Beka did that?”

His outrage seemed sincere enough that Mila felt stupid for ever giving Georgi's fears any credit. “No, I didn't actually believe that. But I wanted to make sure, okay?”

“All of these were accidents, like I already told you the first time you asked. Beka had nothing to do with it. If it's anybody's fault it's JJ's, god fucking damnit!“

Mila frowned. "JJ? But– he isn't even here.“

"Exactly! Fuck, I can't wait 'til he finally gets here next week,” Yuri grumbled, then shot her a warning glare. “Don't tell him I said that. His ego is fucking big enough already.“

He skated off then, and Mila completed her own turn around the rink until she reached Georgi again.

“It's not Otabek,” she said with conviction, but Georgi just gave her a pointed look.

“Of course Yuri would say that. He's protecting him. He's scared, and reluctant to admit that he's a victim.”

“Probably because he isn't one,” Mila gave back. “I can't imagine that Otabek would ever hurt him.”

Georgi just gave her a dark look and shook his head. “Who knows what's going on behind that stoic expression and those bottomless black pits that are his eyes?” he exclaimed dramatically, “I don't trust someone who never shows emotions. What if he doesn't have any? What if he's a sociopath!?”

With a resigned sigh, Mila decided to just let it go at that. If Georgi wanted to insist on living in a bad soap-opera, there was no point in trying to drag him out of it. She supposed that would happen naturally once he had enough drama happening in his own life again, which, if history was any indication, would probably be sooner rather than later.

Yuuri smiled as he watched Otabek lend Yurio a hand to help him up after he'd taken yet another hard fall practicing his quad Lutz. The smile turned into a grin when Yurio reluctantly allowed his boyfriend to pull him into a comforting hug in a rare public display of affection. Either Yurio was getting soft, or the fall had been even more painful than it had looked.

It weren't only the jumps that were giving Yurio trouble lately. A new little bruise had appeared over night, before the last one had even faded.

Yuuri wondered if maybe Yurio was more prone to accidents because he was constantly pushing himself too hard, and never seemed to get enough sleep. Lilia was pretty much monitoring his every move nowadays – and yet she didn't seem to have a clue where his injuries came from, and Yurio's own answers when questioned were getting more and more sarcastic each time.

But between being overly competitive and putting sweat and blood into doing his best to not only meet but exceed both Yakov's and Lilia's ambitious expectations for him, assuming that Yurio might have reached breaking point wasn't too much of a stretch, Yuuri thought.

But when he tried to give the younger skater some friendly advice, telling him to take care of himself and take it easy every once in a while so he wouldn't end up burning himself out, he was met with defiance and anger.

“I didn't ask you for life hacks, Katsudon!”

“I know, I know. I just mean... being overworked can mess with your ability to focus and make you more prone to accidents, and-”

“Are you calling me clumsy, piggy?! That's rich coming from someone who fell so hard on his ass _off the ice_ last week that he had to stop training for two days.”

Yuuri could feel his ears grow hot at the mention of that particular incident. He had been making out with Victor in the locker room, forgetting about the time – as well as the fact that they were still at a public place – when suddenly the other skaters had returned from practice, and he'd hurried to get some space between himself and Victor.

“Okay, fair enough, but that was because-” Yuuri paused. If Yurio hadn't seen that Yuuri's pants had been bunched around his ankles at that moment there was no reason to make him aware of the fact. “Nevermind. Just... do better than me and don't jeopardize your training time by risking accidents and getting hurt, okay?”

“Tch. I'm always doing better than you, pig.”

When Yuuri told Victor about his exchange with Yurio, Victor smiled and shook his head.

“I'm fairly confident that I have solved this mystery,” he declared.

“You have?” Yuuri frowned, and Victor nodded enthusiastically.

“Those are definitely sex bruises!”

Yuuri spat out the water he was drinking. He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth on his sleeve before leveling Victor with an incredulous look.

“On the bridge of his nose, Victor? Really?”

“Remember that one time when the flogger caught me across the chin? The mark looked somewhat similar!”

Yuuri blinked a few times. “It didn't. Not even remotely. Besides- that wasn't even during sex, Vitya. It happened when you were flailing it about pretending to be wielding nunchaku.”

Victor just hummed thoughtfully, index finger pressed against his lips in deep contemplation and came to the conclusion that, indeed, this was rather peculiar, and maybe what the younger men needed was advice from an expert in all things Eros.

He'd never found a connection to Otabek that would allow for bringing this topic up in a casual conversation – a fact which he was only aware of thanks to Yuuri's dismayed: “Victor, no!” when he mentioned his intention of speaking to the two inexperienced love-birds – so he figured that talking to Yurio alone would have to suffice, for now. At least he had experience in dealing with the hot-head's outbursts.

“He's going to kill you,” Yuuri warned him, but Victor dismissed his concern with a smile and a wiggle of his hand.

“It will be fine. If he misbehaves I'll just threaten to tell his _daddy_ ,” Victor grinned with a meaningful nod towards Otabek, then winked at Yuuri and took off in Yurio's direction. Yuuri threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Not everyone has a daddy kink, Victor!” Yuuri yelled after him, which in retrospect was not a good idea because he could see every single head inside the rink turn into his direction and he subsequently spent the rest of the day avoiding to look anybody in the eye.

When Victor brought the topic up, Yurio appeared to be in shock, even though Victor did his best to sound casual, as if he was simply inquiring about the weather, and not about whether Yurio enjoyed being hit by Otabek when they were getting it on.

Yurio appeared to be struggling between outrage and embarrassment, and Victor couldn't get a clear answer from him, though not for the lack of trying. Just to be safe he opted for dishing out some – admittedly uncalled for – advice that he was convinced Yurio would secretly thank him for later. It was a little bit of a hassle to follow Yurio around the rink as he tried to speed away, and two times Victor had to dodge out of the way of his skates when Yurio suddenly hurled himself into a camel spin without warning, muttering something about cutting Victor with his knife-shoes, but Victor would not be deterred by such an old trick, and simply circled him while he continued his lecture. It was a more exhaustive topic than he had previously realized, even when he left out the more obscure kinks and just focused on the basics.

“...and the most important thing, and I cannot stress this enough, is proper aftercare.”

Yurio, beet red and dangerously close to hyperventilating, just glared at him. Maybe he was a little overwhelmed by all the information Victor had just dumped on him, Victor mused.

“You just said the most important thing were safe-words.”

“That, too!” Victor beamed, feeling immensely proud of Yurio for paying such close attention, “It's always important that everything you do is safe, sane and consensual!”

“So nothing like this conversation,” Yurio snarled, “Which was the most insane thing I've ever been forced to listen to, and which I had not consented to, by the way!”

He stormed off, ice flying off his blades.

“It was safe, though!” Victor called after him, smiling and feeling quite satisfied with himself despite Yurio's prickliness. In time, he might even successfully form a closer relationship with Otabek so he'd be able to provide him with advice on how to safely spank the Ice Tiger. He was quite sure that more than a few people would probably clap him on the back for that if he told them about it. Unfortunately, Yuuri insisted that he should not, under any circumstances, tell anybody about it.

Mila had kept a close eyes on Otabek and Yuri, still not spotting anything that even hinted that Georgi's suspicions were warranted – except for a new little bruise above Yuri's upper lip. She'd overheard Victor insisting that it was very clearly a bite-mark, and if it was, there was no way Yuri would admit it, so maybe it was finally time to confront Otabek.

After the afternoon edge class, while Yuri was roped into a conversation with Victor on the other side of the rink, Mila saw her chance and skated up to Otabek as he rounded the rink to cool down before their individual jumping session started. He gave her a questioning glance when she didn't just skate past him but fell into pace beside him instead.

“How're you holding up with the Ice Kitten being extra angry lately?” This was a casual and disarming approach, right?

Otabek gave her a side-way glance, and shrugged. “That's just who he is.”

“Yeah, okay, but, like, you spend even more time with him than the rest of us so I'd imagine it must get annoying at some point?”

Otabek's eyes narrowed as if he wondered what she was getting at. Then he shrugged again. “Not really.”

“Oh come on,” Mila smiled, nudging him with her elbow, “You can't tell me you're never thinking about taming the tiger, even just a little bit?”

Otabek furrowed his brow, then swerved sideways, as if to literally dodge the question, and Mila's heart-rate sped up. Had she finally hit a nerve?

Otabek picked up speed as well, but Mila had no trouble to keep up with him.

“I wouldn't blame you, you know. We all think about it, literally every time he throws a temper tantrum. Maybe I was just hoping you would share some wisdom on how you deal with that.” She bit her lip, wondering if she was laying it on too thick. Otabek slowed, dark eyes boring into her.

“You've known him much longer than I have. If you haven't figured out how to handle him by now, it's probably a lost cause.”

Mila wanted to scoff at that – she was perfectly capable of handling the little wild cat. In fact, she liked to think she was pretty good at it. “I just thought maybe we could compare notes, or something.”

Otabek looked at her as if he was trying to find out what was really going on here just by staring at her. Then his brows shot up all of a sudden. “Oh. I get it, you're one of those people.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You're bothered by what you can't control.”

Mila frowned at him, but before she could respond, Otabek already continued.

“I understand the sentiment, but the appeal eludes me.” He shook his head, and Mila felt like he had taken a leap in the conversation that she hadn't seen coming and now she was scrambling to keep up. “When you see a tornado, is your first thought that you want control it?”

Mila blinked. “What.”

“When you look out across the ocean, do you think: I need to tame these waves?”

His expression was so serious that Mila dismissed her initial assumption that he was joking.

“Er- well, no.”

Otabek nodded earnestly, as if he was proud of her for giving the right answer. She blew a strand of hair out of her face and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “The analogy is a little dramatic though, don't you think?”

Otabek shook his head. “I don't.”

“Okay, then let's roll with it. Maybe trying to control either of those would be overly ambitious, but on the other hand: Storm-chasers and surfers do exist.”

At that, Otabek smiled, and his eyes creased up mischievously. “Exactly. But they're not trying to tame anything. They're there 'cause they love the thrill.”

Mila's jaw dropped, and Otabek apparently decided that this was a good point to end the conversation on, and just skated off, still smirking to himself.

Yuri was still shaking in his boots, sweat running down his heated cheeks, when he had finally crossed the rink and brought as much distance between Victor and himself as was possible without storming from the building. That would have been too dramatic. He needed to calm the fuck down before anybody noticed that he was blushing like a schoolboy and people started to ask questions.

“What was that all about, Yura?”

Yuri wasn't proud of the sound that came out of his mouth, or the way he rocketed off the ice with both feet and almost fell on his ass when Otabek suddenly spoke behind him.

“Did- did you hear anything of what the geezer said?” Yuri stammered, trying to keep his back to his boyfriend, but Otabek simply skated around him and looked at him with a slightly worried frown. When he shook his head. Yuri let out a relieved sigh.

“Why? What did he say?” Otabek asked, looking more concerned than before.

“Nothing!” Yuri said hastily, “I mean- nothing I'd ever be interested in. Like, at all!”

He stumbled backwards, more heat gathering on his cheeks as he forced himself to meet Otabek's quizzical gaze, “Anyway, forget that geezer. What did the hag want from you?” Yuri mentally patted himself on the back for changing the subject so smoothly, but his relieve was short-lived.

“Mila? She was acting kind of odd, to be honest. Asked weird questions, like, if I ever thought about 'taming the tiger'?” Otabek frowned as if he was unsure what to make of that phrase, while Yuri's own mind much too readily jumped to mental images that would have never occurred to him a mere ten minutes ago, before the impromptu kink lecture by Victor. “I thought it sounded a bit like those fanfics that Jean is always reading? I don't know. Like I said, it was a bit odd.”

“Yeah, what the hell, that's super weird,” Yuri squawked, scrambling to get out of the conversation before his head would explode with how much he was blushing, “Well, I, uh- I gotta practice my Lutz now. Talk to you later.”

He sped off, leaving a thoroughly confused looking Otabek behind.

Georgi had watched the entire interaction, from the moment a brooding Otabek caused a visibly startled Yuri to almost jump out of his boots, getting ever more uncomfortable the longer they talked, to the moment a borscht-red Yuri staggered away – practically fleeing from Otabek, who scowled darkly after him.

Georgi looked around for Mila, who he had seen talking to Otabek prior to the scene he'd just witnessed, and he was dying to know what she had gleaned from that conversation. But Mila was now busy getting advice for her jumps from Yakov, and Georgi decided that he didn't want to end up _literally_ dying just to sate his curiosity, and refrained from interrupting them. Yakov could get cranky about that. Which was fine, of course, but Georgi thought that maybe Yakov should get equally cranky about his star student being in a toxic relationship. Sighing deeply, Georgi internally lamented that it was quite inconvenient that despite all this drama happening, they actually still had to train.

He perked up when he saw Otabek glide towards the boards near where Georgi was taking his break, and decided to take matters in his own hands if nobody else was willing to do it.

“Hey, Altin.”

Otabek glanced at him while drinking from his water bottle, brows furrowed in that perpetual scowl, dark eyes as piercing as always. Georgi found it terribly unnerving, so he made sure to not directly meet his eyes as he approached him.

From up close, Georgi realized again how short Otabek actually was. He wouldn't be very intimidating at all if it weren't for those piercing eyes. Well, and all those muscles. The way his black long-sleeve stretched over the bulge of his biceps as he screwed the lid back on the bottle was remarkable. And of course there was also that _other_ bulge, which was intimidating in a very different-

“Did you want something?”

Georgi's thoughts crashed to screeching halt, and he hastily ripped his gaze away from Otabek's crotch, only to then make the mistake to look him in the eyes, which were definitely judging him, Georgi was sure of it. Straightening his spine, Georgi reminded himself that Otabek could _not_ read his thoughts, no matter how hard he stared at him.

“Indeed. I was wondering,” he cleared his throat, “Do you by any chance happen to know the origin of those pesky bruises that keep appearing on Yurachka's face with concerning regularity?”

To Georgi's dismay, Otabek's face seemed as closed off and unreadable as ever.

Georgi flinched when Otabek leaned forward all of a sudden, his dark eyes boring into Georgi's.

“He did that to himself.”

Then he just put the water bottle down, pushed himself off of the boards, and skated off.

When Georgi remembered to breathe again, his heart was hammering in his ears. Otabek might think he was being edgy and cool, but that wasn't what his words had sounded like to Georgi. No, not at all.

They had sounded eerily like a confession.


	2. Off-Season Declared "The Absolute Worst" By Coach Yakov Feltsman

A week before Yakov's annual summer training camp was set to begin, JJ arrived in Saint Petersburg to stay with his boyfriends for a few weeks, and it looked like all of a sudden Yuri's mysterious bruises had stopped appearing.

“Say what you want about the boy, but he does have manners,” Lilia said conversationally as she and Yakov shared a cup of tea the evening before summer camp started. Unlike Yuri and Otabek, JJ had accepted the curfew Lilia had imposed without any questions or complaints.

“I care a whole lot more about him being a phenomenal skater, to be honest,” Yakov grunted, “His presence clearly is a huge source of motivation for Yurachka.”

“I am more hopeful that his presence will continue to have a balancing influence on Otabek and Yurachka. They seem to be keeping whatever reckless behavior has lead to Yurachka's bruises in check ever since he arrived.”

“If by keeping reckless behavior in check you mean start a jump contest the very first day he steps on the ice in Russia and Yurachka almost wrecking his knee in the process, then yes, by all means, they're doing fine.”

“I agree that that was not their most intelligent decision, but after the scolding they received I doubt they'll repeat their mistake.”

“That's why you like the Leroy boy, isn't it? Has nothing to do with manners and everything to do with the fact that he's properly scared of you.”

“He's merely a little insecure because his charm doesn't work on me. He'll get over it.”

“Nope,” Yakov shook his head, blowing on his tea, “He's terrified.”

Lilia's lips twitched in an almost-smile. “Well. It's a common enough affliction.”

“No shit,” Yakov muttered into his tea.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” He took a hasty sip and burned his tongue in the process. He hissed in pain, which caused Potya, who had been sleeping on the chair next to his, to raise her head and glare at him.

“But, Lilia, I was thinking,” Yakov began, turning his tea cup around in his hands, “After having them cowed so effectively, and them being on such good behavior and all, don't you think we could trust them with a little more leeway?”

“What did you have in mind?” Lilia took a small sip of her tea, her brow furrowed inquisitively.

“Like, say, renegotiating the curfew terms, for example?”

Lilia's nostrils flared. “That is not going to happen, Yakov. As I have already informed them - three times alone today, I might add – the curfew is here to stay.”

“But, Lilia, consider-”

“I wouldn't have thought they'd try to use you to get me to reconsider. Nor that you'd cave so easily.”

“They didn't! But yes, I caved, because I can _hear_ them, Lilia, all _three_ of them, every damn evening! And it's only gotten worse since Leroy joined them, he's the loudest of the bunch and I cannot-”

“I did not need to know that,” Lilia interrupted him. “Maybe work them harder during the day so they lack the energy for any more strenuous activities in the evening.”

“I tried that! It's not working!” Yakov whined, and he wasn't proud of it, but the situation warranted it, in his opinion. “Please, just let them go out in the evening, so I am already asleep when they return and go at it. Or alternatively allow me back into your bedroom, which is conveniently on the other side of the house.”

Lilia just arched an unimpressed brow at him. “Buy some earplugs.”

She stood and left the room, taking her tea with her and leaving Yakov alone with Potya, who looked at him with her blue eyes slightly narrowed, very clearly judging him.

“What?” Yakov grumbled, “Can't blame a guy for trying.”

Mila had resigned herself to the fact that Georgi now regularly sought her out to share his dark musings with her, but she still wished she hadn't already put her earphones into her locker when she heard him mumble about how Otabek, who clearly wasn't the “Hero” everybody thought he was, probably wouldn't dare mistreat the “Princess” while the “King” was around. Not as long as said King towered over him by several inches.

Mila's lips quirked up in a dirty smirk. “I heard Otabek has several inches on JJ in other places, though.”

“Mila!” Georgi spluttered, dropping his skate-guards and looking scandalized, “This is exactly the kind of gossip that makes men feel bad about their own bodies! I refuse to engage in that.” Several moments of silence passed in which Georgi fiddled with his skate guards. “Was it Yuri who said that? Because then it's probably true. Not that I care. I don't. I'm not even gay, why are we discussing the size of...” His voice died off.

“Their dicks?” Mila provided and Georgi actually winced. “We weren't, until you apparently couldn't let the topic go. Are you sure you're as straight as you think?”

“That is _not_ the point. The point is, this whole conversation is inappropriate.”

“So is you accusing Otabek of being abusive without a shred of evidence.”

“He basically confessed!”

“No, he was clearly messing with you. Just like Yurachka was messing with us by telling us obviously fake stories about where the bruises came from. They're just being little shits, and honestly I'm not surprised.”

Georgi just shook his head gloomily and left, though not without giving Mila a look as if he was gravely disappointed in her lack of reason, which only made her roll her eyes. She still thought this whole domestic violence thing was absurd. On the other hand Georgi's words had reminded her of what Yuri had said when she had confronted him before: _“If it's anybody's fault, it's JJ's!”_

But she couldn't come up with any reasonable theory that would explain why JJ's presence would prevent Yuri from hurting his face.

“You know, your theory about Yurio being clumsy simply can't be true,” Victor mused, tapping his lips with his index finger, “Because now that both of his boyfriends are present, he's surely getting even less rest than before. If anything, there should be more bruises instead of none at all.”

Yuuri cocked his head as he contemplated Victor's words, then nodded reluctantly. “Agreed, it doesn't make sense that he would be less distracted now that both of them are around.”

Victor beamed, clearly taking this as a victory, and graciously informed Yuuri – who had not asked for this – that “Innocent catholic boy and former purity ring wearer Giacomo Leroy-”

"Jean-Jacques, Vitya. Seriously, his nickname is JJ, how would you even get two J's from Giacomo?“

“... _JJ_ Leroy most certainly is only into vanilla sex. And because Otabek and Yurio don't want to make him uncomfortable, they refrain from any kinky activities while he's around. Which is very considerate and mature of them. But I have no doubt that once JJ is back in Colombia-”

“Canada,” Yuri corrected him, slightly exasperated, “You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?”

“...once he's back in _Canada_ , Yurio will be right back over Otabek's knee.”

“Why are you so obsessed with Yurio getting spanked!?”

Victor sighed dramatically. “Believe me, if you had trained at the same rink with him for this many years, you would be, too.”

“Leroy! What did I say about doing backflips??!” Yakov's voice boomed across the ice in heavily accented English.

JJ winced but his wide grin hardly wavered while he flashed his signature JJ-sign and bowed in the direction of a group of junior girls who had rewarded his stunt with cheerful applause and giggles.

Yakov hollered in their direction next. “Don't encourage him!!”

The girls scattered and went back to their own practices, while Yakov spotted Otabek gathering speed on the other side of the rink .

“Altin, you better not even think about it!!”

Otabek met Yakov's glare across the ice and seemed to weigh his options, then gradually slowed down again, and Yakov let out a deep breath, mentally counting to ten. This group had been the first senior class of the day, and he was already ready to go back to bed.

“I don't need another skater injured at my rink, Leroy,” Yakov scolded JJ when he skated over, then pointed at Yuri who just then came to a halt next to him, ready to step off the ice, “Especially not when Yurachka finally seems to have gotten better.”

JJ gave Yuri a bewildered look. “You were injured, princess? Why didn't you tell me?”

Yuri was shaking his head, looking confused, and Yakov elaborated. “I was talking about the bruises on his face that fortunately seem to have stopped appearing.”

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.” Yuri glared at Yakov, impatiently pushing past Victor and Yuuri who were blocking his way, “Why is everybody still so obsessed with that?! They were tiny compared to the one I currently have on my hip. As a matter of fact, my _entire fucking ass_ is pretty much one single bruise! Nobody is making a fuss about _that_!”

“Probably because we can't see it,” Yuuri muttered.

Victor gave Yuri a concerned look. “Yurio, we talked about this. Didn't I tell you, when engaging in activities like-”

“THEY ARE FROM PRACTICING THE QUAD LUTZ VICTOR OH MY GOD!” Yuri screeched before Victor could finish that sentence.

Otabek reached them in that moment, wiping sweat off his furrowed brows as he looked back and forth between Yuri and Victor.

“What is Victor getting yelled at for this time?”

“Being fucking annoying, as always!” Yuri snapped, giving Victor a warning glare and shaking his skate-guards at him threateningly, which Victor ignored, turning to Otabek instead.

“Otabek, I know this might not be in my place to say, but you should be careful when you-” He was cut off by Yuuri placing a gentle hand over his mouth, potentially saving him from being murdered by the Ice Tiger.

“Time and place, Vitya,” he reminded him with an affectionate smile that wavered only a little bit. Victor did not look entirely convinced but nodded, and didn't speak again when his husband withdrew his hand.

Otabek looked thoroughly confused, but when nobody seemed willing to fill him in on what he was obviously missing here, he shrugged and reached for his skate-guards on top of the boards before stepping off the ice.

They had time for a small break before meeting Lilia for ballet class, so everyone was surprised when they spotted Lilia walking into the rink, marching straight towards their group.

“Oh-uh, I know that look. Someone's in trouble,” Yakov groaned, glaring reproachfully at everyone. Lilia wouldn't have come all the way to the rink if it wasn't a serious matter, and everybody watched her approach with baited breath.

“Yuri Plisetsky!” Lilia's voice cracked through the cold rink air like a whip.

Yuri scrunched his face up in annoyance. “Whatever it is, it wasn't me!”

Lilia's reply was a stern gaze and holding her phone out to him when she reached the group. Yuri looked at it, frowning, then his face fell.

It was an article on one of the skating gossip websites, showing a blurry image of Yuri leaving the rink sporting a visible bruise under his right eye, which looked a lot worse than it had in reality, thanks to the poor image quality, and maybe even some dramatic editing. 'Who Hurt The Russian Fairy? Picture Of A Bruised Plisetsky Causes Concern'

The headline was bad enough, but the speculative sensationalism of the article was even worse. Domestic abuse, rowdy fights, secret reckless partying including substance abuse – they had pulled all the stops to somehow fill the page by talking about a picture they had absolutely no context for. Of course they had – the off-season was in full swing and not much was happening in the skating world at large, so these magazines were desperate for some content.

“I can't believe this,” Yuri spat, “Were they high when they wrote this shit?”

It didn't look like the article had gotten too much attention so far, but there were a couple of tweets circulating the image in question, and the twitter rumor mill was an unpredictable hell-beast that could spiral out of control at any given moment. Yuri groaned. Once his Angels found this – and they would – this would inevitably blow up.

The others had grabbed their own phones to google the article in question, and now most of them were giving him inquisitive looks of varying intensity, the most piercing one being Lilia's.

“I believe it is about time you finally come clean about what really happened, Yurachka.”

“I told you all a thousand times but none of you listened to me or believed me. All of those were accidents!”

“What kind of accidents, Yurachka?” Lilia pressed, and Yuri gritted his teeth, cheeks turning pink, which caused Victor to let out a knowing chuckle.

“Why does it matter?” Yuri growled.

“Because when – not if, _when_ – this blows up, we will most likely have to publish some sort of explanation.”

Otabek cleared his throat. “I might be able to help with that. And the potential twitter fallout. Though this might create a storm all by itself, to be honest.” He held up his phone. The screen showed a video still of Yuri lying on his back in his bed, phone in his hand.

“Are you sure you wanna share that with everyone, Beks?” JJ joked.

Otabek smirked. “Yura is probably going to kill me. But, honestly, the world needs to see this. It's pretty incredible.”

“Beka what the fuck?!”

But Otabek had already pressed play and everybody craned their neck to see.

It was a video compilation of short clips of Yuri, laying on his back in bed, or on the couch, or on his Yoga mat, playing or texting on his phone. Each of the clips was only a few seconds long, and each one ended in roughly the same way: At some point, the phone slipped out of Yuri's hand, and dropped hard on his face.

“I can't fucking believe this,” Yuri muttered, heat rising on his cheeks as he watched his own face contort in pain on the screen as his phone hit him in the eye. He was fairly certain that had been the one that had caused the bruise featured in the damn gossip article.

“Oh my god, how often did this happen?!” Mila was shrieking with laughter when the video just kept going and going. Most clips showed Yuri visibly struggling to stay awake, eyes fluttering shut before his hand lost its grip on the phone and smacked him in the face, shocking him awake again.

Otabek had highlighted some of Yuri's particularly pained expressions by a freeze frame followed by a dramatic zoom-in, and sometimes the metal cover version of the cartoon song that he'd used for the video was interrupted to play the original sound of Yuri's loud and colorful cursing, or, in one case that sent everyone into especially hard fits of laughter, Yuri _hissing_ like an angry cat at the offending phone.

Yuri groaned, both at the merciless laughter of his rink-mates, as well as the memories of the instances shown in the clips, and buried his face in his hands to hide the angry blush on his face. It was a little ironic – JJ had gotten him an extra robust case for his phone for his last birthday, so he wouldn't end up breaking it all the time when he tossed it away in a fit of rage – which was working better than he had expected, but unfortunately it also made his phone about three times as heavy as it otherwise would be.

Yuri peeked through his fingers at Otabek's phone, waiting for this embarrassing highlight-reel of his clumsiness to be fucking over already.

The current clip showed him sitting in an armchair in Lilia's living-room, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he focused on his phone, fingers darting across the screen. A moment later he jumped to his feet, his face contorted with rage, and he threw the phone at the armchair across from him – only for it to bounce back with the same volatile force and smack him hard in the face. Otabek had rewarded the scene with three slow-motions and an especially dramatic zoom for the moment of impact.

At that point Yakov's booming laughter was threatening to pop Yuri's eardrums, and even Lilia turned her head to sneakily dab a few tears from her eyes from laughing too hard.

The screen went black for a moment, and Yuri dared to hope that it was finally over, but the music kept playing, and then the word “BONUS” flashed across the screen, followed by another clip that showed Yuri laying on his back on his yoga mat in his room. In the background, Potya could be seen sleeping peacefully on top of a pile of skating magazines. From the frantic movement of Yuri's fingers on his phone it was obvious that he was once again playing rather than texting.

Yuri recognized the scene immediately. “Oh shit no, you filmed that as well??”

Otabek just snickered.

On the screen, Yuri angrily tossed his phone aside without even looking where he threw it, almost hitting an unsuspecting Potya, who upon the sudden disturbance immediately bolted out of view with a giant leap over Yuri's head, where she apparently knocked over Yuri's entire trophy collection, which rained down on him a second later.

Of course, Otabek had made sure to freeze the video and zoom in on Yuri's shocked face as he realized what was about to happen, followed by a slow-motion of Yuri's face disappearing under a torrent of trophies.

JJ was wheezing with laughter, leaning on Yuri to prevent himself from collapsing, wiping tears from his eyes. “This is the best thing I have ever seen in my entire life!”

Yuri halfheartedly pushed him off of him, and he just kept laughing and leaned on Otabek instead, who didn't seem to mind at all, looking rather pleased with himself and the response his video was getting.

“Were those your junior and novice trophies from local competitions? You still have them?! That's so sweet!” Mila cooed, adding another layer to the embarrassment Yuri already felt that he had absolutely no need for.

“They should have only given out medals, like a respectable competition,” Yuri grumbled, “Would have saved me a lot of pain.”

“Keeping them behind glass in a proper display case instead of stuffing them into your overfilled shelves also would have achieved that. Which I believe I have told you to do dozens of times,” Lilia commented dryly.

“Wow, can we stop with the victim blaming here?” Yuri griped.

“I'd say poor Potya was the victim,” Katsudon giggled.

“I think this is his phone's revenge for all the times he's thrown it against the wall when he was angry,” Victor smirked, “Karma truly is a bitch.”

Even if Yuri wanted to be mad, he couldn't help but laugh along with everybody else. The whole thing was embarrassing as hell and the zooms were not very flattering, but he could admit that it was kinda funny.

Yuri leveled Otabek with a stare that was equal parts reproach and admiration. “I had no idea you were filming me, you creep.”

“After I noticed that it was a regular thing that happened, I couldn't resist. I was just gonna share it with Jean, because most of those clips happened while you were texting with him, or trying to beat his high score.“

“God, that stupid high score! I'm still half-convinced you cheated!” Yuri growled, glaring at JJ.

“The King doesn't need to cheat,” JJ smirked, “Gotta say my victory feels even sweeter now that I know how mad it made you.”

“This isn't over yet, Leroy,” Yuri growled.

Mila slapped a hand to her forehead. „ _That's_ why you said it was JJ's fault!“

JJ gave her a curious look. “Why what was my fault exactly? I mean, he'd blame me for the sky being blue if it bothered him, but-”

“She thought my bruises were from Beka hitting me or something and I told her that if it was anybody's fault it was yours, because I'd dropped the phone on my face again while I was texting you the evening before. Also, it was you who gave me that heavy as fuck phone case for my birthday. That thing is a goddamn brick, okay?”

“Wait. You thought I was beating him?” Otabek stared at Mila, looking very much like _he_ was the one who had been struck just now.

“No, Georgi thought that,” Mila was quick to shove the blame to where it belonged. Georgi pretended to be busy inspecting his fingernails.

“Vitya did, as well,” Katsuki giggled, “But in a slightly different way.”

“Different how?” Otabek looked completely disturbed by now.

“DOESN'T MATTER!” Yuri yelled, “God, I swear, you all are even worse than those so-called journalists who wrote that article!”

“Hold on,” Victor interjected, “So you're not experimenting with impact pl-” The rest of his sentence got muffled by Yuuri's hand over his mouth, who muttered apologies in the direction of a still puzzled looking Otabek.

“Enough with this nonsense,” Lilia spoke up, then turned towards Yuri and his boyfriends. “I'm glad there was a harmless enough explanation for your injuries, Yurachka, though I must say I am not impressed by this level of clumsiness. But it is a relief nonetheless. I was worried you were getting into fights even though I did my best to keep an eye on you at all times. I couldn't figure out how you managed to still get hurt.”

“So that's what all that mothering was about all of a sudden?! Holy shit!”

“Language, Yurachka.”

Now that she had moved past her amusement, she apparently wasn't willing to tolerate his cursing anymore. Yuri rolled his eyes. “But now you know what's up, so the stupid curfew can go away again, right?”

“Oh, absolutely not. I am very pleased with the effects it's had so far, and I noticed I am far less stressed when I know exactly where you are and that you're not doing anything you shouldn't.”

Yuri's jaw dropped. “You've gotta be fucking shitting me right now!?”

“Language,” Lilia snapped, and if anybody except Yakov saw that her hand twitched for the fraction of a second, they did a better job at not flinching instinctively at the sight. “And what's more, I am going to instate a new rule: No more being on the phone before bedtime.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“For the last time, watch your mouth, Yurachka, or you won't have your phone during the day, either,” Lilia warned.

Yuri opened his mouth, about to go ballistic, when he suddenly felt a heavy hand being placed on his shoulder.

“Yura. Stop.”

Yuri felt like his brain had just short-circuited. Whatever he'd been about to holler at Lilia, the words had withered and died on his suddenly much too dry tongue. Otabek had emulated Lilia's stern tone unnervingly well, but for some reason it was way more effective. His hand was burning a hole into his shoulder, which was very distracting. Yuri swallowed hard and tried to remember what he had wanted to say, and how to say it without cursing.

Upon hearing Yuri argue in an almost civilized tone, Otabek withdrew his hand and gave it a quizzical look. “Huh.”

Victor regarded him with a knowing grin and gave him a thumbs up, which Otabek hesitantly returned even though he still felt like he was missing something here. All he had tried to do was prevent Yuri from causing them all to be in even deeper trouble with Lilia, though he had not expected his intervention to be so effective.

Mila gave him a sly smirk and leaned in. “Re-evaluating your opinion about tornadoes?”

“Hm.” Otabek looked down at his hand again, then at Yuri, who was still trying to argue with Lilia, but was apparently making an effort to keep it PG. It was hard to believe that Yuri's explosive temper could be contained with a simple touch and a stern warning – other people had tried, and failed, countless times after all. But if that was what had happened then Otabek couldn't deny that it was indeed a very new, very unexpected kind of thrill. And if he was re-evaluating anything, he certainly wasn't about to discuss it with Mila.

JJ gave Mila a severely puzzled look. “My Russian isn't very good yet, so I might be wrong, but did you just ask him what he thinks about tornadoes?”

Mila and Otabek gave each other a look and chuckled.

“Something like that,” Mila grinned, leaving JJ none the wiser.

They turned their attention back to the others when they heard Yakov clear his throat loudly.

“Lilia, I think you can cut them some slack-”

“Absolutely not,” Lilia declared.

Yuri let out a whine. “But- even you laughed at the video! It was all harmless!”

“It's not just about that, Yurachka. There are studies that prove that using your phone before going to bed greatly impairs the quality of your sleep. As an athlete, good sleep is even more important than it is for ordinary people. And starting tonight, your phone stays in the living-room where you can retrieve it when you leave in the morning. End of discussion.”

Yuri gaped at her in silent fury, and she turned her eyes on Otabek, who promptly stood a little more stiffly and looked vaguely panicked.

“The same goes for you, Mr. Altin.”

Otabek opened his mouth in protest, but she cut him short. “Did you or did you not film those videos with your phone?”

Otabek closed his mouth again and just nodded. He knew how to pick his battles.

JJ began to snicker next to him but choked on it when Lilia's gaze fixed on him next.

“You as well, Mr. Leroy.”

“What? Why?” JJ whined.

“Yurachka was mostly texting with you while these incidents happened, wasn't he?”

“Yeah, but- I was in Canada! It was the middle of the day for me! It had no impact on my sleep!”

“That may be so, but you are not in Canada right now, you are in Russia, and you're staying at my house, and you're going to play by my rules, which as of today include no phones before bedtime, is that understood?”

Yuri was still outrageously furious with Lilia, but he had to admit that the meek “Yes, ma'am” that came over JJ's lips was one of the best things he'd heard in his life.

“We still need to decide on a strategy on how to deal with this should these rumors get out of hand.”

“Feels like they already did,” Yuri muttered, glaring at everybody, before retrieving his own phone from where he'd left it on one of the benches and checked his social networks. When he found a private message from Phichit on Instagram, demanding to know what happened, in all caps and followed by a string of shocked-face-emojis, Yuri cursed under his breath and turned back to the rest of the group.

“Phichit found the article. We gotta act _now_.”

“Should I post the video, then?” Otabek asked, and Yuri took a deep breath, considering his options. He wasn't a fan of being publicly humiliated, but on the other hand, this would dispel any bullshit rumors about violence and abuse far more effectively than any lame PR statement ever could. He closed his eyes and let out a resigned sign.

“Fine. Do it.”

JJ whooped and gave a grinning Otabek a high-five, before Otabek pulled out his phone again to make the post. Yuri rolled his eyes at them and Lilia wrinkled her nose.

“This is not how I would have preferred to deal with this, but I suppose it will have to do.”

Yuri silently agreed. With a sigh, he turned off his own phone and handed it to Lilia.

“Just take it. I don't wanna see the internet's reaction to that video and this way I won't be able to give in to temptation.”

Lilia raised her eyebrows at him and took the phone to tuck it into the pocket of her coat. “That is very mature of you, Yurachka.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

The group scattered then, with Yuuri still trying to convince Victor that his unsolicited BDSM-lecture had been inappropriate at best, and Georgi still moaning to Mila about how the video, funny as it might have been, was in fact no proof that Otabek wasn't also abusive.

“Think about it, Mila. He could have warned Yuri each time when he realized he was about to doze off! Instead he chose to continue recording. Clearly, he enjoys seeing him in pain!”

Mila finally snapped, and told him that if he didn't quit it right there, _she_ would get abusive. Georgi gave her a wounded look, but he did indeed shut up.

The three boyfriends had wandered away from the rest of the group,wearing similar unhappy expressions, still complaining about the newest change in Lilia's rulebook.

The only one who looked even more unhappy, if that was at all possible, was Yakov.

“Why are you making a face like you just had several teeth pulled?” Lila asked.

“I actually had the displeasure of having several teeth pulled once, and I didn't feel remotely as miserable as I do right now.”

“And why might that be?”

“Taking their phones away, Lilia? Before bedtime? Really? What do you think they'll do instead, with their other favorite past-time taken away from them?!”

Lilia gave him a completely unimpressed look. “We all make sacrifices for this sport.”

“And don't I know it,” Yakov snorted, and lifted his hat. “I sacrificed most of my hair, didn't I?!”

Lilia pursed her lips. “Well, then what does it matter if the rest goes as well?”

Yakov gaped for air, but Lilia had already turned on her heels, ordering everyone who was supposed to attend her ballet class to stop dawdling and follow her.

Yakov was kind of relieved to see them all leave for the day and it was almost time for the afternoon class with the novices. On the other hand, it was afternoon class _with_ _the novices_.

He grimaced and let out a long-suffering groan. This off-season was officially the absolute worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Yakov :P 
> 
> If this silly bit of crack managed to make you laugh, pls let me know ;) Kudos and comments are always welcome (even if you're reading this long after it was posted ^^) <3

**Author's Note:**

> I consider this a prequel to [Jacky's and Becky's Bizarre Adventures](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11733645) but both can be read on their own and have no real connection to each other so I decided against putting them in a series for now. This might change if I decide to add more to the JABBA universe at some point :)


End file.
